


Starlit Sea

by ApostateDreams



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Ignis Scientia, Pining, bi!prompto, gay!Ignis, just so much pining, mlm author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateDreams/pseuds/ApostateDreams
Summary: Nothing brings inconvenient feelings of fondness and yearning to the forefront of Ignis’s mind quite like a relaxing day at the beach.A longer-than-planned promnis story that encompasses requited love, introspection, and coming out.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Nacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played FFXV in Japanese with English subtitles, so the characterization of speech in this story is based off of that and other fanfics I’ve read. I am an English speaker who knows a very small amount of Japanese.
> 
> Please feel free to imagine this fanfic set at whatever point in the game you wish. The only constraint I kinda put is that it takes place when the group is turning in one of Dino’s many quests.

“Wooow! Look guys!” Prompto shouts, brimming with excitement as he all but leaps from the Regalia and gestures widely at the midday scenery with both arms. “The beach! It’s so perfect, we have to go swimming, like, _right now_.”

Gladio chuckles amiably in response. “Looks like someone’s excited. S’pose I could go for a quick dip.”

“Are you both forgetting that we traveled here for an important reason? We are to pay a visit to Dino and then continue on to more important matters.” Ignis reminds them as he locks the car up, despite the private part of himself that would love nothing more than to give in to anything Prompto desires.

Noctis, still stretching from the long car ride, chimes in. “We can afford to spend a few days here. Might as well swim while the weather is worth it.”

“Woo! Race you there, Noct!” Prompto replies, and then sprints out onto the fair sands without so much as a ready-set-go, followed swiftly by Noctis.

“Looks like you got outvoted, Specs.” Says Gladio.

Ignis sighs. “It’s just as well. This’ll get it out of their systems so we can accomplish some real work afterwards.”

“Gods, you sound like an old man.” Gladio teases. “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna go _get it out of my system_ too.”

Ignis watches Gladio’s retreating back, and exhales another sigh. In his friends’ defense, the beach at Galdin Quay _does_ look awfully inviting. The dome of the azure sky has very few clouds to block the sun that shines resplendently down upon the glittering Cygillian Ocean, and the sand seems soft and fine enough to lay on. Ignis follows the three other men, fully intending to lounge on the shore whilst they all swim to their hearts’ content.

The beach’s sand really is a perfect sun-warmed temperature. Ignis removes his shoes, socks, and gloves in order to allow himself to sit down and fully enjoy it, as his companions argue a few meters away about whether or not it is truly fair that Noctis beat Prompto to the water’s edge by warping.

Moments later, to Ignis’s mortification, his friends begin shucking their clothes. This is not exactly unusual considering they do not have proper bathing suits, and it makes no sense to soak all of their clothing in seawater for the sake of modesty. Nonetheless, Ignis’s heart goes all aflutter before he can really do anything to tamp the physiological reaction down.

In all honesty, while Noctis and Gladio are attractive in their own right, it’s Prompto who completely captivates Ignis’s attention. Ignis watches the other young man peel his shirt off in one smooth motion, and shimmy out of his jeans with a delightful shake of his legs and behind. Underneath his discarded Crownsguard fatigues, Prompto sports— _Gods_ —what look like silk boxers in a deep blood-red color. The boxers are short and ride low on Prompto’s hips, showing off his slim stomach and lithe legs. Ignis notes that Prompto’s freckles extend beyond just his face and arms, and his breath catches in his throat. _Adorable_ , comes to the forefront of Ignis’s mind before he can halt his runaway thoughts, _beautiful, adorable Prompto. Sweet, pretty, perfect Prompto_.

Ignis should stop staring. He really should stop staring, tear his eyes away, pretend to nap, or read through his recipe journal, _anything_ to stop himself from creeping on his friend. Yet Ignis is a weak man, and he cannot quite bring himself to cut off his furtive glances in the blond’s direction.

So Ignis secretly, shamefully, continues staring as subtly as he can while his three friends, now all equally undressed in their undergarments, wade into the water, laughing and carefree. Ignis’s eyes trace the lines and movements of Prompto’s form as he and Noct start engaging in a splash-fight against Gladio. Ignis was not prepared for the sight of Prompto stripped down to boxers, and he realizes now that he’s decidedly even less prepared for the absolute _vision_ the blond is shining wet with saltwater.

Ashamed of his own lapse in self-control, Ignis at long last looks away, choosing instead to concentrate on the sand around his bare feet whilst the others play in the shallows. He’s almost disgusted with himself for ogling Prompto without his knowledge or consent. It is not as though Ignis plans to _do_ anything about his infatuation with the young man, but he feels dirty and guilty all the same.

Ignis never meant to allow his fascination with Prompto to evolve into something that enraptures his thoughts so frequently. It’s unseemly really. Yet the truth is that the whole thing sort of snuck up on him over the course of years.

The Advisor plucks a flat mollusk shell from the sand and turns it over in his fingers absently as he tries to recall if there was a tipping point sometime in years past, a point at which his feelings for Prompto went from something sufferable to an all-consuming flame in his heart. A few events come to mind, but one in particular brings a small smile to Ignis’s lips: the first time he baked Prompto a cake for his birthday.

Baking a birthday cake was such a simple gesture, one that Ignis did every year for Noct’s and Gladio’s birthdays, and it only seemed natural to start baking for Prompto too once they became friends. Ignis didn’t expect more than just a ‘thank you’ for the trouble that was really no trouble at all. However, the very first time Ignis presented Prompto with a cake one autumn season, the younger man’s eyes lit up and he grinned the happiest grin Ignis ever laid eyes on. What’s more, Prompto directed this beaming, beautiful visage at _Ignis_ , as though he hung the stars in the sky rather than merely bake a cake.

The look of pure joy on Prompto’s face from receiving something special really did Ignis in. If he wasn’t already aware of his then-small crush on the blond, Ignis might have mistaken his heart skipping a beat for arrhythmia. Ignis knew from that moment going forward that he would do absolutely anything for that smile, anything for Prompto. In that moment, Ignis knew there was no escaping the fact that he was falling in love.

Falling in love; what a grand blunder _that_ was. Neither Prompto, nor Noctis and Gladio for that matter, even know that Ignis is gay, though he can be sure they have some suspicions. Besides, Prompto makes no secret of his attraction to beautiful women like Cindy. There’s no room nor reason for Ignis to disturb their group’s dynamic by throwing his messy, unwanted feelings into the mix.

“Hey, what’s up, Iggy?”

The interruption catches Ignis off guard, so deep was he in his thoughts. Ignis removes himself from reverie and looks up at the person who walked up in front of him.

“You’re not gonna swim?” Prompto poses the question breathily, voice exhibiting the effects of exertion from his horseplay with the others, no doubt.

Ignis resists the uncouth urge to look Prompto’s still damp, still unclothed body up and down, and gazes out at the waves lapping at the shore as if seriously considering the query directed to him. In all honesty, swimming sounds fun to Ignis, but seawater-soaked britches and the high potential of getting dragged into the others’ roughhousing does not. And those are just the first couple of his reservations on the matter. There is also the very real possibility that proximity to Prompto’s near-nude form whilst Ignis is in much the same state will cause him to get too... _excited_ , especially since his brain seems to have decided to torment him more than usual today.

“No, I’d rather not swim,” Ignis answers. “But don’t mind me, it’s perfectly pleasant up here.”

“Awe, are ya sure?” Prompto checks, getting on his knees to kneel in the sand next to Ignis.

Ignis makes the mistake of turning his head and his gaze catches on Prompto’s bare thigh, on the clusters of freckles and faint, silvery stretch-marks there. The image fills Ignis with the impulse to trace them all with his fingers, or better yet, his tongue. Ignis swallows audibly, throat suddenly tight, and rends his eyes away again.

“Quite,” Ignis responds, somewhat belatedly.

“Ah, well-“ Prompto, seeming to misinterpret Ignis’s shortness for annoyance, shifts uncomfortably. “It’s okay if you’re embarrassed, y’know?”

“I beg your pardon?” This thread of conversation is most unexpected.

Prompto smiles nervously and braces his outspread hands in front of himself, as though he could deflect the awkwardness in the air.

“I mean- Uh- I just thought... I was super embarrassed to swim myself, so I thought that maybe...you might be too...” Prompto trails off into a mumble, and looks down at his own knees.

“Oh. That’s err...not my reason for abstaining,” answers Ignis, “but thank you for the concern. That’s thoughtful of you.”

After a beat, Ignis thinks to add, “and you, Prompto, have nothing to be embarrassed about, I assure you. Though I do suppose the saying that we are our own worst critics rings true in these sort of situations.”

“Shucks, Iggy, I can’t say I one-hundred-percent believe you, but thanks, man.” Prompto flips his wet hair out of his face and grins in Ignis’s direction. “And it was silly of me to assume you of all people would be embarrassed, what with you being drop-dead gorgeous and all—oop!”

Prompto’s cheeks color, and he slaps his palm to his forehead. “Fuck- Shit- I didn’t mean that. I mean I did mean it, because you _are_ gorgeous, but I didn’t mean it in like a _weird_ kinda way, and- I should just stop talking, shouldn’t I?”

At this point Prompto has splayed his palms and fingers across his face in a fruitless effort to hide how red it’s become. He eyes Ignis somewhat wearily through the gaps between his fingers. Ignis takes in the sight for a second: Prompto shy and flushing fuchsia behind his hands, causing his irises to appear a startling blue-violet, his hair damp and sticking out in haphazard spikes, his bare chest and shoulders covered in dewdrops of saltwater. Truly _he_ is the gorgeous one here, so gorgeous that Ignis aches for him. Yet if Ignis were to tell Prompto aloud, it would not be in the same friendly way Prompto just did for him. Ignis is sure his damned tenderness and fondness would bleed into any too-kind words he offers the younger man, so he tries to avoid being too complimentary at all, lest he give himself away.

“Prompto, relax.” Ignis soothes. “A compliment between friends is nothing to worry about, and I thank you for it. Although, I too cannot say I one-hundred-percent believe you.” Ignis smirks as he tosses Prompto’s own words back to him.

“HAh!” Prompto squawks a laugh and uncovers his face, recovering from his previous embarrassment. “You’re funny, Igster, you always know just what to say. By the way, whatchu got there?” He points at Ignis’s lap.

Ignis looks down at the shell he’s still fidgeting with. Now rubbed free of sand, the oblong-shaped shell displays a scintillating spectrum of iridescent colors on one side. He holds it up, turning it slightly so the sun dances across its smooth surface.

“This is a mollusk shell.” Ignis tells Prompto. “I found it right here where we’re sitting.”

Prompto’s mouth forms a cute little ‘O’ shape as he stares at the shell. “Ohh, it’s so pretty!”

“Would you like to have it? I have no use for it.”

“No, no, no.” Prompto refuses. “I couldn’t take something that you found, you should keep it.”

Ignis shrugs, and pockets the thing; maybe he can find some use for it later.

“I do hope I’m not keeping you from...” Ignis squints in their other two party members’ direction, where Gladio holds Noctis in a headlock while the prince shouts curses at him in mock-anger. “...whatever it is those two are doing.”

“Nah, they don’t need me there showing ‘em up with this gun show.” Prompto preens and flexes his biceps with a flourish of his arms.

“Were you to go up against them, I’m sure that you’d knock them out of the water.” Ignis teases.

Prompto giggles at that, his lovely eyes squinting, a faint blush high on his cheeks. An earnest longing to cup Prompto’s face and kiss his smiling mouth pierces through Ignis like a bolt of coeurl lightning. Ignis fists his hands in his lap as nonchalantly as he can, and concentrates on the sting of his blunt nails digging into his palms.

“Oi! Blondie!” Calls Noctis from the water’s edge. “Stop flirting with Ignis and protect me from muscle-man over here!”

“What? I wasn’t _flirting_!” Objects Prompto. He then turns back to Ignis. “I’ll talk to you later, Iggy. Don’t get too bored chillin’ on the sand by your lonesome, alright?”

With that, Prompto rises and returns to Noct’s and Gladio’s side, but not before giving Ignis a friendly pat on his shoulder and sending goosebumps down his arm. Ignis exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding and unfists his hands. He inspects the angry, red, crescent-shaped indentations from his fingernails lining his palms, and wonders if his incessant lovesickness might not be starting to affect his health and wellbeing.

***

Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto eventually get their fill of swimming in the ocean, but not before they all get sunburned. In the order of least to most severe sun damage: there is Gladio, who mostly just tanned and received a little bit of a pink tinge to his cheeks and ears from the sun; Prompto, who is more prone to sunburn but managed to primarily get away with only more freckles from the experience; and Noctis, who ended up with a painful looking burn on his shoulders and back.

“Honestly, you three, have any of you ever heard of sunscreen?” Ignis chides them when they’re settling in at the Galdin Quay Hotel. “I left some burn ointment on the bathroom counter, and I suggest each of you use it after showering.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noct dismisses the issue with a shrug, immediately wincing at the friction of his shirt against his sunburn and earning a pointed look from Ignis and Gladio. “Guess I’ll shower first,” he mumbles.

While Noctis showers, Ignis plays cards with Prompto and Gladio at the small table provided in their room. After a few rounds, of which Ignis wins more than half thank you very much, Gladio pops a question.

“So, what’re we gonna do about the rooming situation?”

“Rooming situation?” Question Prompto and Ignis in unison.

“Jynx! You owe me a soda!” Crows Prompto without hesitation, pointing triumphantly at Ignis.

“I’ll get you whatever you want next time we’re at a diner,” Ignis assures him, then turns back to Glado, “but what’s this about the room?”

“Well it’s actually two rooms,” Gladio explains. “This one, and another one through the bathroom. I wanted to ask who wants the other room, since there’s only three beds total.”

Ignis glances around the hotel room they currently reside in, consciously noting the details. There are two beds here, so the adjacent room must house the third, hopefully bigger bed, seeing as the two in this room are sized for one occupant each. Ignis doesn’t know how he failed to acknowledge the small size of these beds until now—of course they’d need more room for four people—but he was rather distractable today afterall. Ignis actually did notice the second door in the bathroom earlier, but made the mistake of assuming it was a linen closet or something, rather than the second room of their suite.

“I’ll just sleep with Noct in the other room,” offers Prompto. “Makes sense that we should be the ones to share, since we’re smaller.”

“Not a chance.” Noctis, just now exiting the bathroom shirtless and in sweatpants, refuses. “You totally cling in your sleep, and I ain’t having anyone touch me when my skin’s messed up like this.” He gestures to the red, now shiny with ointment, sunburns on his shoulders for emphasis.

“Yikes, yeah that looks uncomfortable.” Gladio sympathizes.

“Uh, Gladio then?” Prompto asks.

“No can do, Prom.” Gladio answers. “You sleep with Iggy. If Noct is staying here then I should too if I’m gonna Shield him effectively.”

“Oh, ok.” Prompto deflates a little like a defeated flan, then quickly recovers. “Sorry, Iggy, Noct wasn’t lying about my sleeping habits, but I’ll try to keep to myself, promise!”

Ignis feels sure he’s the only one who observes the discomfort Prompto tries to hide, and it makes his stomach sink like he swallowed lead. Does Prompto suspect Ignis of having romantic affections for him? Is that why he’s distressed about the rooming decision? Or perhaps he somehow knows of Ignis’s predilection for men, and carries the misconception that homosexuals are not picky about their bed partners. Either way, Ignis recognizes the need for him to don an easygoing facade.

“Not to worry, Prompto,” Ignis says with a fake, closed-mouth smile. “I’m tired enough to sleep through whatever tossing and turning you might do.”

Ignis is, in fact, not tired at all, but the lie helps Prompto’s worried expression ease a bit. Lying expertly comes easily to Ignis by reason of practicing at it for so long. Whether it’s pretending to enjoy the company of bourgeoisie he’s forced to network with as Advisor to a crown prince, or masking his orientation, much of Ignis’s social life necessitates clever deceit. He only wishes such deceit did not extend to his closest friends as well. Nevertheless, lie to his friends Ignis does, because if there is one selfish fear that arrests Ignis’s heart, it is that of rejection from those dearest to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, I totally threw a they-have-to-share-a-bed cliche in here. Sorry not sorry! 
> 
> Poor Ignis worries himself to death and just won’t let himself have nice things. Both of our silly boys are too darn oblivious for their own good. Worry not though! It will all come together—in more ways than one.


	2. Slumber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I set a new record for myself by writing and posting chapter two so quickly.
> 
> Thanks for reading~!

Ignis eventually finds himself alone in the single-bed room he and Prompto are to share for the night. Fortunately the one bed is large enough for two people, although that does very little for Ignis’s nerves. The Advisor attempts to make himself at home whilst Prompto occupies himself using the shower. He paces, he does some inventory management within their armiger, and ultimately settles down on one side of the bed with a Cosmogony book Noctis found near the Galdin dock.

It certainly does not _feel_ as though the Hexatheon are watching over Eos during these tumultuous times, the Cosmogony’s assertion that they are and have been since eras immemorial notwithstanding. Someone somewhere might thump Ignis on the ear and call him faithless for his doubts and questions, but he cannot help but to be a skeptic. Frankly, it often seems as though Gods do not care about human plights and suffering at all.

Ignis continues paging through the book to pass the time, mostly inspecting the intricately drawn illustrations. After a while Prompto exits the bathroom, freshly showered and smelling of floral soap. Ignis wills himself not to look up at him and make their situation more awkward by staring. He studies an illustration of the Infernian God, Ifrit, bestowing the power of fire unto humanity until he feels the other side of the mattress dip, communicating Prompto’s intention to lay down.

“Hey, Ignis?”

Somewhat reluctantly, Ignis turns away from the Cosmogony book in his hands and towards Prompto, who perches gingerly on the far side of the bed. He wears a solid black tank top and soft shorts, the same thing he always wears to sleep. Although it seems more intimate when they’re about to share the night under the same blankets, rather than separate or encased in personal sleeping bags.

“I, uhm, just wanted to thank you,” Prompto continues, “for the sunburn ointment. And for tolerating me tonight.”

Ignis feels his expression soften involuntarily, and hopes to Six he does not look too besotted when he replies. “Prompto, you are always welcome to receive help from me. I would be a poor friend if I denied you. As for _tolerating_ you... I would amend that to say I _enjoy_ you.”

Alright, that answer was definitely delivered with too much sweetness on Ignis’s part. Time and time again, Prompto’s mere presence blunts the sharp edges Ignis cultivates in himself, reducing the tactician to a lovestruck fool. Yet what can Ignis do but be sweet, when Prompto thanks him with downcast eyes and a jab at himself?

Upon hearing Ignis’s words, Prompto’s face reddens across his nose and cheekbones, and he looks up shyly through delicate blond eyelashes. That gaze is a bullet through Ignis’s heart. _I love you_ , thinks Ignis before he can stop himself, _I love you, you silly, precious boy_.

Prompto breaks the spell by exhaling with a whistle. “Iggy, omigosh, you’re gonna give me an ego the size of Eos by sayin’ nice stuff like that.”

“Somehow I expect even then your ego would only be fractional to Noctis’s or Gladio’s.”

“Oof, you’re right about that.”

“I’m right about most things, thank you.”

Prompto gives him a lopsided smirk, showing a flash of teeth. “Now who has the ego, eh?”

“I never argued to the contrary. Are you quite ready to sleep, Prompto?” Their back and forth has Ignis more at ease, and considering sleep an actual possibility now.

“Ah, yeah, totally. Lights out time!” Prompto inserts himself under the covers on his half of the bed, wriggling a bit until he’s comfortable.

Ignis puts the Cosmogony book on the nightstand along with his glasses, and kills the lights before following suit. He takes care to keep to his side of the bed, and miraculously manages not to accidentally make contact with Prompto as he too gets under the covers.

“G’night, Iggy. Don’t have nightmares.” Prompto murmurs in the dark.

“I’ll do my best not to. Goodnight, Prompto.” Ignis responds, rolling over on his side and facing the small, curtain-covered window inset in one wall, his back to the other man.

Prompto flops over in place a couple of times, apparently uncertain whether he wishes to sleep upon his back or his stomach. The movements cause Ignis to become hyper-aware of their proximity every time they occur. Yet after the deliberation of a few minutes, Ignis hears Prompto’s breathing even out and become deeper, signaling his descent into sleep.

The combination of sounds of distant ocean waves and Prompto’s steady breaths have Ignis’s thoughts taking on that nebulous, pre-sleep quality. He recalls admiring Prompto’s photographs of the day with everyone else before eating at the Mother of Pearl restaurant. What a regret it is that Ignis said nothing while Prompto was needled by the others into deleting the copious amounts of selfies he took. If it were up to Ignis, he’d have an entire album just of Prompto selfies. That would be nice...

***

At a juncture between sleep and wakefulness, Ignis registers an encumbrance pressing upon him all the way from shoulder to shin at his right side. He lays on his back, pinned by this weight that’s both warm and welcoming. Ignis almost drifts back into unconsciousness, until he smells floral soap.

Ignis opens his eyes and sees only darkness, but he immediately feels the tickle of hair brushing against his cheek, and hot breath puffing across his neck.

_You totally cling in your sleep._

Yes, yes he does. Prompto totally clings in his sleep, and at present he clings to Ignis like he’s practicing for the great cling-a-thon. His legs tangle among Ignis’s, his hips and torso practically glue themselves to his side, his arm slings itself across Ignis’s chest, and his face is tucked tight against his neck and shoulder. Ignis cannot deny his own part in this too, as his right hand has snuck itself under Prompto’s body and presses possessively into the small of his back.

Ignis inhales a long, deep, supposed-to-be-calming breath and shudders on the exhale. He wonders whether wresting himself from Prompto’s octopus-like grapple will wake him or not. Tentatively, Ignis makes an effort to extricate himself by gently grabbing the wrist of the arm Prompto slung over his chest and trying to sit up. As if sensing Ignis’s escape attempt, Prompto fists his fingers in the fabric of Ignis’s T-shirt, ceasing his movement.

Previous effort failed, next Ignis tries disentangling his legs from Prompto’s as carefully and slowly as he can. He displaces his left leg successfully. However, as soon as Ignis makes any noticeable progress moving his right leg out from under Prompto’s thigh, the other man makes a low whining noise and grinds his pelvis against Ignis’s hip.

All at once, Ignis feels the drag of Prompto’s mouth and nose against his neck, as well as the hardness of Prompto’s erection press into his hipbone. Through the thin fabric of their sleeping clothes, Ignis gets a great sense of exactly how hot and hard Prompto’s cock is. Ignis prays to the Hexatheon and swears he shall never doubt their grace and mercy again if only he can get out of this situation with his pride and dignity intact. Well, neither the Gods nor Ignis’s traitorous autonomic nervous system care about his pride and dignity right now, judging by the way his body rapidly reacts to Prompto’s unconscious arousal.

Ignis’s heartbeat pounds in his chest like he just ran from a daemon, and he feels an answering throb at the apex of his thighs as blood pumps to his cock unhelpfully. Desperate for deliverance from what might be the most distressing mess he’s had the misfortune to get into on their roadtrip-from-hell, Ignis makes another attempt to free himself from Prompto’s limbs. Yet his haste causes him to move carelessly, and Prompto once again doubles down on clinging.

“Mmph-“ Prompto grunts with another undulation of his hips.

In their current position, every time Prompto rolls his hips, his thigh brushes the base of Ignis’s erection. Ignis scrunches his eyes shut and bites his lower lip so hard it hurts. This is torture, he decides, and he must do something about it.

Ignis prepares, for better or for worse, to detach himself from Prompto whether he wakes up or not. It’ll likely prove easy enough to rush to the bathroom and pretend he has to go or something, and subsequently _not_ talk about the fact that Prompto acted out his sex-dreams while sleeping next to him. Everything will be fine, just fine.

“Mn- Ah-“ Prompto makes little noises again, then, “I- _Ignis-!_ ”

Now that’s...unexpected...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will pry my love for fanfic cliches from my dead, gay hands.


	3. Insight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the ‘E’ rating is earned, after much ado.

Assuming what Ignis heard was an auditory hallucination is not an option. He was never one to mishear things, and Prompto said his name clear as crystal. Even so, the dawning epiphany that perhaps, possibly, maybe Prompto reciprocates an iota of Ignis’s interest in him does not change the fact that consent is not given when one party is asleep. Ignis must put a stop to Prompto’s frottage, or wake him up, regardless of the self-centered hunger welling up in his mind.

“ _Prompto_ ,” whispers Ignis, softly shaking Prompto’s shoulder with the hand that isn’t attached to the arm pinned underneath the other man’s body. “Wake up, Prompto.”

Sluggish with sleep, Prompto languidly lifts his head and blinks his eyes open. Having adapted to the dark over the past few minutes, Ignis sees Prompto’s befuddled expression transition to one of acute humiliation as the blond becomes cognizant of the scene he awoke to.

A flurry of flustered movements follow. Prompto yelps like a frightened puppy and frantically disentangles himself from Ignis. Unfortunately, Prompto’s eyes haven’t yet accustomed to the room’s darkness, and his sightless flailing causes him to accidentally backhand Ignis across his right temple.

Ignis sits upright, rubbing the side of his head with his now-free hand and hissing at the mild pain. Meanwhile Prompto chants a disjointed litany of swears and sorries.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry, oh my Gods- Fuck- I didn’t mean... Did I- Shit, did I hit you? Ohmigosh I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Holy shit-”

Recovered from the bump to his head, Ignis swiftly seizes Prompto’s wrist so he cannot desert the bed as it appears he is perilously close to doing.

“Prompto, hush, please.” Ignis tries. “There’s not a need to panic.”

“I was just dry-humping my buddy’s leg in my sleep like a- like a _horny idiot_. And you’re probably gonna hate me forever now,” Prompto’s voice cracks a little, whether from sadness or fear Ignis does not know, “but yeah, yeah, no panic here. Nope. Totally not panicking.”

Without releasing Prompto’s wrist, Ignis twists around to turn on the nightstand lamp. The illumination reveals how red Prompto’s face is, and the line of worry set between his eyebrows. Ignis’s initial instinct is to embrace him in a gesture of physical comfort, but that’s most likely not what Prompto wants right now.

“It’s alright,” Ignis insists instead, letting go of Prompto’s wrist, “you did nothing wrong.”

Prompto huffs a self-deprecating laugh and fidgets with the leather wristband he wore to sleep. “Um, I really beg to differ with you on that.”

“What occurred was a natural reaction, and nothing to feel shame over,” Assures Ignis. “But I acknowledge it can be embarrassing to move and speak in your sleep in such a way.”

Apparently Ignis’s assurances miss the mark, because Prompto pulls his knees to his chest with an anguished groan, and hides his scarlet face behind his folded arms.

Prompto’s next words are muffled, but Ignis still hears him whine, “I was _talking_ in my sleep too? Oh Gods, Argentum, just shoot yourself now.” Then, tentatively, “What exactly did I say?”

Now it’s Ignis’s turn to blush, but he carries on.

“You said... Well, you said my name.” Ignis explains.

Prompto raises his head then, briefly glancing to Ignis before looking ashamedly away. His blue-violet eyes shine with what suspiciously appear to be unshed tears.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” murmurs Prompto.

“I wasn’t to know what?”

“That I like you!” Prompto blurts, before bowing his head behind his arms again.

In spite of mounting suspicion that this could be the case, Prompto’s revelation still hits Ignis like a poorly placed spell. For far longer than he cares to remind himself, Ignis quietly coveted this very thing. To learn at last that Prompto requites his infatuation has him momentarily reeling with amazement. Nevertheless, he must make sure. Even in games of love, revealing one’s cards too hastily without sufficient knowledge of the opposition’s hand is unwise.

“Forgive me. This is unexpected, and I-” Ignis pauses, parsing his words before saying them. “I know I embarrassed you by waking you up, and for that I am sorry. It seemed like the best choice at the time. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to... But I would like nothing more than affirmation that you truly mean that you’re _attracted_ to me.”

Prompto laughs humorlessly and lifts his head again, though he carefully avoids making any eye-contact, choosing instead to glance around the room as if searching for an escape-hatch.

“Figures you’d want me to spell it out, but I guess I can’t make this any worse, so...” Prompto sighs and unfolds his legs and arms into a more relaxed sitting position. “Yeah, I like you, am attracted to you. In a really not-straight way. I’m _super_ sorry. This was something I wanted to stay hidden for, well, forever.”

_Now or never, Scientia._

“What if I told you the attraction is mutual between us?”

Prompto’s eyes snap to Ignis’s instantly, leveling him with what can only be described as a severe stare uncharacteristic of his ordinarily sunny demeanor.

“You wouldn’t joke about that.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but the vulnerability behind the words belies the seriousness of Prompto’s tone. He quite likely fears getting hurt, and this tugs at Ignis’s heartstrings. It is time to allay that fear.

“Never, Prompto.” Ignis whispers, reaching out with his hand, but hesitant to touch. “If you’ll allow me, may I kiss you?”

The previous severity drops from Prompto’s expression, replaced with something like awe. “Gods yes, _please_.”

A certain measure of restraint is required on Ignis’s part to resist grasping Prompto roughly and ravishing him as he so sorely wants. No, he goes slowly, skirting his hand up Prompto’s arm to rest upon his shoulder, threading the other through the yellow-blond hair at the base of his head. Prompto’s eyes slip closed as Ignis bumps noses with him, but he keeps his own open, committing the way Prompto’s skin glows in the lamplight to memory as their lips brush together for the first time.

“Oh,” Prompto sighs when they inch apart, “that’s...”

Rather than finishing his thought, Prompto presses his mouth to Ignis’s again, and grasps at his shoulders with both hands. He’s eager and inelegant and perfect, so perfect, but clumsiness and trembling hands expose his inexperience. Ignis withdraws, breaking the kiss but keeping Prompto close.

Ignis starts to ask, “Have you ever-” at the same time as Prompto says, “How long-”

“Please,” offers Ignis, “go ahead.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to ask how long you’ve _liked_ me.”

“Since I made kupoberry cheesecake for you on your birthday.”

Prompto considers this a moment, then exclaims, “That’s like five years, dude!”

Ignis rolls his eyes fondly. “Well how long have you liked _me_ then?”

“Uhhhm,” Prompto hesitates. “Probably since that first time we both hung out together with Noct and you kicked my ass at Moogle Kart.”

“Oh so you get on me for five years, but your timeline easily adds to six.” The gravity of all those years starts to sink in right after Ignis says this. “Have you really felt fond of me for all that time?”

“Well, yeah, you’re kind of the reason I even know that I’m bi.” Prompto enlightens him.

Ignis leans in and pecks Prompto on the nose, causing him to scrunch his face adorably. “Darling boy.”

“What were you gonna ask me?”

“I’m afraid there’s no polite way to phrase this,” warns Ignis, “but how much experience do you have? Sexually speaking.”

Prompto’s freckled cheeks flush as he forms his answer. “I’ve fooled around with myself plenty, watched crappy internet porn, that sorta stuff. But I’ve never done anything with another person before.”

“Have you been kissed?”

“Yeah, just now.” Prompto winks.

Ignis flicks Prompto on the earlobe. “I meant _other_ than kisses from me.”

“Then no, never.” Prompto admits. “Is that bad?”

That this admission brings forth a flash of delight in Ignis is certainly censurable. He never dreamed of enjoying the privilege of being Prompto’s first, but suddenly finds the notion inescapably enticing.

“Not a single thing is bad about it.” Ignis tells him. “I simply wish to avoid overwhelming you.”

Prompto captures one of Ignis’s hands in both of his own. “Iggy, you don’t have to hold back on my account.” He kisses the center of Ignis’s palm. “I’ll pretty much let you do whatever you want with me.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Prompto.” Ignis concedes, his own voice sounding strained. “Lie down for me?”

Prompto complies quickly, kicking blankets aside and making himself comfortable on the hotel pillow. Ignis reclines next to Prompto and leans over him, steadying himself with his right hand pressed on the mattress next to Prompto’s left shoulder. With his other hand, Ignis traces the dainty shell of Prompto’s ear, and drags the pads of his fingers along his jaw before rubbing his thumb across his pink lower lip.

“You’re gorgeous,” Ignis tells him, staring straight into his indigo eyes, and then bends down to meet him for a kiss.

Prompto reciprocates with the same endearing eagerness as before, and loops his arms around Ignis’s neck. Resisting lust for a fast pace, Ignis softly slots their lips together again and again until he dares to swipe his tongue across Prompto’s mouth.

A little gasp parts Prompto’s lips and Ignis dips his tongue inside, feeling past the sharp line of his teeth. He rubs the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times, before licking against the silky texture of Prompto’s tongue.

Prompto keens at this, one of his hands falling from Ignis’s neck to trace along his back and side. The high-pitched sound combined with the exploratory way Prompto’s fingers tickle at the hem of his shirt have Ignis’s erection returning with a vengeance. He ignores it however. Right now, Ignis wants nothing more than to keep kissing Prompto, to make this as pleasurable as possible for the beautiful man who confers such trust to him.

Ignis continues the slick slide of his tongue into Prompto’s mouth, each movement of the muscle eliciting another sound more erotic than the last. When Prompto’s keens crescendo in desperation, Ignis pulls back, resting their foreheads together as they pant hot breaths between their faces.

“Too much?” Ignis manages to ask.

“Gods, _no_ ,” is Prompto’s emphatic reply. “‘S not enough. I want- I want...” He clings to Ignis’s shoulders, trying to tug him closer as he struggles with the words. “I want to feel you on top of me.”

“Prompto...are you certain you wish to go further?” Ignis questions in between shallow breaths. “I’ve worked myself up to quite a state, and I’m not sure that I can avoid-“

Before he finishes that thought, Prompto grasps Ignis’s wrist and guides him to touch the hard strain of his erection through his sleep-shorts.

“Yes,” says Prompto in an arousal-thick voice, “I’m sure. I want to feel you so badly.”

The forwardness of Prompto’s gesture sends a lance of primal heat right through Ignis’s core. He presses his palm firmly, but not too forcefully, down on Prompto’s stiff cock, gauging the girth of him through the fabric. Prompto throws his head back into the pillow, moaning at the intimate touch as Ignis takes in his impassioned expression. The blush that began at Prompto’s cheekbones now extends to his neck and ears, and his pupils are dilated so wide that his irises form barely-there rings of ultramarine wreathing them. The vision the blond presents laid out on the bed just for him eclipses any and all of the debased fantasies Ignis’s mind conjured over the years.

“ _Please_ , Ignis.” Prompto begs, holding his arms out, inviting him in. “Don’t leave a guy waiting?”

That does it. Ignis feels some, if not most, of his restraint fracturing as he moves hastily to cover Prompto’s body with his own. Somewhere in his brain, Ignis files away the realization that Prompto’s pleading is something he cannot refuse.

A deep, happy hum vibrates in Ignis’s chest when they’re fully pressed together with his hips between Prompto’s thighs and Prompto’s arms hooked under his shoulders. Ignis nuzzles a spot below Prompto’s ear and inhales deeply of his scent, taking a moment just to sense all the delicious closeness of another, of someone he loves.

Then Ignis licks a stripe up Prompto’s neck, and softly sucks on a pinch of skin near his jawline. This action has Prompto twitching up suddenly, the motion pressing their clothed pricks together.

“ _Oh_ , Prompto,” Ignis whispers against the pink mark he made on the other man’s neck.

Prompto twitches his hips again at the sound of his name on Ignis’s lips, and Ignis guides their mouths together with a gentle hand on his cheek. Their kiss stays soft for a second perhaps, then Ignis feels Prompto tentatively lick into _his_ mouth, and he breaks.

Ignis sucks on Prompto’s tongue with a lewd moan, and grinds his hips down repeatedly to rub their erections together. Wanton whimpers bubble up from Prompto’s throat, and Ignis feels aflame.

Amidst this, somehow, Ignis invokes enough self-control to issue a warning. “If we- _Ah!_ If we keep this up we’ll need to get new pajamas.”

“Then,” Prompto pauses and squeezes his eyes shut a moment; they haven’t stopped rutting against one another. “Let’s have...clothes _off_.”

Ignis’s arousal-addled brain does not need to hear that twice. He sits back balanced on his knees and strips his T-shirt off with quick efficiency. When the fabric leaves his field of vision Ignis watches Prompto start to do the same. That is, until Prompto falters and pauses with his tank top rucked halfway up his torso.

It takes Ignis a beat to put together that Prompto paused to rake him up and down with his eyes. Ignis flexes, maybe just a little, and Prompto licks his lips.

“Wow, you’re like a marble statue.” Prompto compliments, eyes still roving Ignis’s form and seeming to catch on the thin line of hair descending from his navel.

“Thank you, but I’m nothing special,” Ignis deflects, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants.

Although for all sakes and purposes Prompto appears dazzled and avid for more, Ignis feels anxious as he rids himself of his pants and kneels completely naked between Prompto’s legs. Sans clothing and glasses and gel in his hair, Ignis secretly worries he looks dreadfully plain. Well, except for his dick conspicuously jutting from a tangle of trimmed pubic hair, cockhead ruddy and beading precum.

“ _Astrals_ ,” Prompto whispers under his breath, still ogling Ignis. “I promise compared to you I’m gonna take the ‘nothing special’ title.”

Prompto hurries to strip out of his tank top and shorts, tossing them who-knows-where beyond the bed. When he lies back on the mattress again, Prompto shields his waist with his hands a bit, and flicks his eyes between Ignis and some unknown point as he fidgets his lower lip between his teeth.

The timidity newly etched onto Prompto’s fair features fills Ignis with tender protectiveness. He wants to show Prompto exactly how utterly _irresistible_ he finds him. For Ignis, Prompto’s allure is indisputable. Admiring him a moment, Ignis absorbs the constellations of freckles dotting his body, the pink peaks of his hardened nipples, and the swollen redness of his cock just begging for attention. Even looking without touching makes pleasure pool deep in Ignis’s belly.

Adjusting his position, Ignis braces himself on his knees between Prompto’s legs and gently moves his hands from his beautiful abdomen. He makes sure to kiss each and every one of the stretchmarks lining Prompto’s stomach before moving up, then lowering himself down until they’re pressing together from chest to shins.

After acclimating to the delectable feeling of so much skin-on-skin contact, Ignis pecks Prompto with little kisses all over his face. “I’ve told you you’re gorgeous,” he says, “and you’re also kind, genuine, clever...” In between each compliment, Ignis gives Prompto’s face more kisses, ending with a lingering one to his mouth.

Prompto groans when they break apart, and touches his fingertips to his cheeks as if to test how heated they’ve become. “I don’t know whether to be super embarrassed or super turned on, that’s just...a lot.”

“You deserve more than is within my capacity to give.” Ignis states, smiling.

Prompto’s eyes widen and without warning well with tears. When he blinks reflexively, a couple of teardrops escape the corners, wetting his long eyelashes.

“My love,” the endearment comes out before Ignis thinks on it, “I am sorry, I hope I didn’t-“

“No,” Prompto interjects, swiping away the rest of his tears, “these are _happy_ tears, I swear. I almost can’t believe any of this is real.”

Feeling mischievous, Ignis raises one eyebrow and asks, “Does this feel _not real_ to you?” Before rolling his hips down against Prompto’s.

“Ignis!” Prompto nearly shouts as their naked cocks rub together between their bodies, and reaches his hands around Ignis’s back to hold on.

From there, they fall into a rhythm that makes Ignis’s toes curl and his eyes screw shut against the extraordinary pleasure of it all. With some effort, he squints his eyes open to gaze down at Prompto’s enraptured expression. Seeing the splendor of his new lover in ecstasy, Ignis understands the sentiment of feeling unreal. With his eyes heavy lidded, lips kiss-bitten, and yellow-blond hair fanned across the pillow, Prompto paints a picture both angelic and debauched.

“You’re so perfect,” Ignis tells Prompto as he picks up the pace. “So perfect for me.”

To Ignis’s delight, but not necessarily surprise, Prompto grows more vocal when Ignis speeds up. He cries out loudly and with abandon. Ignis considers the possibility of being overheard, but he’s greedy to listen to exactly how much Prompto enjoys this.

Prompto’s reciprocal thrusts take on an erratic edge and Ignis suddenly feels the mild sting of blunt nails scratching down his back. “S-sorry, ‘m close, I can’t,” Prompto tries explaining.

“No apologies,” Ignis pants. “Not for that, not with me.”

After a few more thrusts, Prompto comes with an abrupt moan that Ignis kisses him partway through. Prompto’s muffled cries, the way he clings to Ignis like a lifeline, and the hot spend slicking between their stomachs send frissons shuddering down Ignis’s spine. Not much time passes before Ignis feels his balls tighten, and his orgasm hits hard with him moving against Prompto through wave after wave of it.

Ignis ends their messy kiss to lave attention upon Prompto’s neck and clavicles. He gives him gentle nips and licks, tasting the salt of his freckled skin and whispering “ _my love, my love, my love_ ” as aftershocks tingle through his nerves.

“You’re absolutely beautiful when you come.” Ignis eventually murmurs against Prompto’s throat after the last of his orgasm leaves him.

Prompto laughs a little, the sound buoyant and bell-like. “You must tell everyone that after sex.” He jests, ruffling Ignis’s hair.

Ignis rolls them on their sides in order to relieve Prompto from bearing his weight. “Would you believe me if I told you that you’re the first?”

“The first person you say that to, or the first you have sex with?” Prompto asks.

“I would think one of those things inevitably precedes the other,” states Ignis, earning himself a playful swat to his chest from Prompto. “But to answer your question, both.”

Prompto raises his eyebrows at that. “You’ve never...? I wouldn’t’ve guessed that. How’re you so good at kissing then?”

“Well, I’ve had some practice from certain encounters of the past,” Ignis explains. “Enough about that though, I should get us cleaned up.”

When they’re both wiped free of mess, Ignis eagerly re-enters the bed and gathers Prompto into his arms. The two men spend uncounted time simply holding each other, entwined with tight twists of limbs and faces buried in one another’s necks.

“You know, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you at the beach today,” Ignis muses after a while. “I’d wanted to perhaps swim, but didn’t trust my body to behave, so to speak.”

Prompto, having inched back to watch Ignis as he spoke, grins impishly. “Oooh who’d’ve known Ignis _so-serious_ Scientia is secretly a horndog? For realsies though, I’m sorry you didn’t get to swim.”

“It’s okay.” Ignis gives Prompto a quick kiss on the lips. “I got something far better at the end of the day.”

Prompto’s grin morphs into something of an affectionate smile. “We still could y’know?”

“Still could what?” Ignis wonders.

“Go swimming,” answers Prompto. “The night is yet young, sweet lover of mine.” He singsongs, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Well, what the heck.

“We’ll be exhausted come morning.” Ignis predicts. “Yet, I think you’ve got a splendid idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brevity? I’ve never met her. 
> 
> There’ll be more chapters to this story, but it’ll take a longer to update because I really, really need to work on grad school projects instead of writing smut.


	4. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the beach episode. Have a long chapter!
> 
> I updated the tags/description of the story a little.

If anyone informed Ignis earlier that he would commit to swimming naked in the ocean during the witching hours of the night, he’d have scoffed, as he does, and asked if they were suffering from any status ailments. As it is, the scene Ignis finds himself in appears ethereal in its beauty, like a dream.

Prompto and he furtively snuck out of the Galdin Quay Hotel and wandered south-eastward along the darkened beach in search of a secluded area. They found just such a thing in the form of a lonely dock situated amongst rocky shoals. It isn’t much, but Ignis came _prepared_. He brought soft towels for them to sit on and dry off with, hot aromatic tea in a thermos for them to drink, and a rechargeable lantern for them to see by. With those accoutrements all set up, the humble wooden dock actually provides a rather cozy atmosphere. Yet that’s nothing compared to the view he and Prompto currently wonder at from where they stand near the dock’s edge.

The clear, moonless night permits the thousands of stars sprayed about the sky to shine without competition. Below the heavens, the calm ocean acts as a mirror, reflecting pinpricks of starlight across its gently waving surface. Staring into the distance without focusing on any solid objects for reference points almost make the sky and sea appear melded together, forming one sparkling expanse.

A hand slips into Ignis’s own, fingers interlocking with his. Prompto silently sidled over next to him, and smiles up shyly, nudging their shoulders together. Ignis swears he can see the stars reflected within Prompto’s eyes too, like his irises are tiny galaxies.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells Prompto quietly. “Not a star in the sky compares to you.”

Prompto demurely averts his eyes. “My ego will never recover from all the nice things you keep telling me,” he says.

“Good. I won’t have you believing you’re anything less than spectacular.”

Prompto stutters before asking, “Ready to swim?”

Ignis nods, and they step away from one another to shuck their clothing. As he neatly folds his clothes upon the towels laid out on the dock, Ignis watches Prompto discard his own clothing in a haphazard pile. Yet he cannot bring himself to be annoyed, not when he can finally drink in Prompto with his eyes all that he wants, not when as Prompto catches him doing so he smiles and saunters over to where Ignis can reach him.

As soon as Prompto comes within reach, Ignis folds him into his arms in a fierce embrace, unabashed of their mutual nakedness. A full body shiver runs through Ignis from the skin-on-skin contact, and he realizes that prior to tonight he cannot recollect the last time he hugged someone (or even did that odd back-pat gesture heterosexual men tend to do). On some level, Ignis feels slightly embarrassed by his exigent need for affection. He was getting along alright without it, but now that he had a taste, Ignis desires intimacy like he’s starved for it. He hopes Prompto does not tire of him. Ignis plans to do everything in his power to ensure that doesn’t happen, but apprehension still creeps uninvited into his mind. He always was prone to worrying over worst case scenarios.

“Iggy, you’re thinking too loud.” Prompto murmurs against the side of Ignis’s neck where he has his head tucked.

Prompto continually proves himself more insightful than anyone gives him credit for. Ignis can hide most things from most people, but Prompto exists in exception to that it seems.

Ignis shifts his arms around Prompto, and inhales a long breath through his nose before answering. “I am only hoping that I can promise your continued happiness.”

Prompto giggles softly and hugs Ignis tighter. “Babe, I’d be happy stuck on a deserted island with you, and I feel like the _luckiest_ guy alive tonight, seriously.”

The pet-name Prompto used sticks in Ignis’s ears and, along with his assurances, melt away most of the worry freezing Ignis’s mind. There remains but one detail to deal with, however.

“Prompto,” Ignis begins, moving back to see Prompto’s face but still keeping the blond within the circle of his arms. “It eases my mind to know should we ever have the misfortune to shipwreck somewhere desolate, that you wouldn’t dub me an undesirable companion. I am wondering though,” Ignis pauses here due to apprehension and earnestly hopes Prompto thinks it’s a pause for effect. He wills his heartbeat to steady and continues. “I am wondering if you might desire my companionship in another capacity, as my _boyfriend_.”

Time flows like cold molasses as Prompto processes the words. Seconds stretch into small eternities. _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes,_ loop Ignis’s thoughts.

Eventually Prompto smiles a big, toothy smile, and it’s like a rainbow after a thunderstorm. “Ignis, of course!” He replies. “Never thought I’d get my first boyfriend standing naked outside in the middle of the night, but hey, I’ll take it.”

Ignis moves his hands to cup Prompto’s face, brushing his thumbs lightly along his cheekbones. “I’m so glad,” he whispers. At a loss for further words, Ignis kisses him.

Prompto chases Ignis’s lips when he breaks away, endearingly eager. “I thought you wanted to swim.” Ignis reminds him, even as he leans back in to capture Prompto for a second kiss.

“I dooo,” Prompto whines when he can speak again, “but you’re too darn distracting! Maybe turn the charm down a few notches?”

“Ah yes, forgive me. I had my charm-Prompto dial set to ‘high’.” Ignis jests as he releases Prompto and moves to test the seawater’s temperature with his foot. “The temperature feels amenable.” He informs, glancing back to Prompto.

“Don’t move!” Prompto shouts abruptly, sticking his arm out rigidly with his hand open in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold that pose!”

Ignis startles but obeys, watching warily as the other man rifles through his pile of discarded clothes. He retrieves his camera and lopes back over to Ignis, popping off the lens-cover.

The camera-eye glints in the low light of the nearby lantern as Prompto positions himself just so. Behind his camera, Prompto presents an image of utmost concentration. The sight of him squinting through the viewfinder and precisely adjusting the focus-ring, all whilst nude, begins to tickle Ignis. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever shot Prompto has in mind, but he can feel himself quivering with withheld laughter.

Ignis struggles to compose his features and keep his breathing even. _Surely Prompto will snap the photo soon?_ Unfortunately, trying not to laugh makes everything markedly funnier. Ignis snorts, then the floodgates open and there’s not a thing he can do to stem the loud laughter tumbling out of him.

_That’s_ when Ignis hears the camera shutter click, naturally, and several times at that.

“Oh my gods, these are pure gold,” Prompto praises when he’s finished shooting.

Ignis wipes a couple of stray tears from his eyes, recovering from his laughing fit. “You’d better keep those photographs close. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to see me naked _and_ laughing.”

“Don’t worry, this is my top secret SD card.” Assures Prompto as he squirrels his camera away back into his clothing pile.

“What other naughty things might you have on that _secret_ SD card, I wonder. Perhaps you ought to show me sometime, hmm?”

Their surroundings are too dim for Ignis to discern whether his comments elicit a blush from Prompto or not. Yet if the way Prompto stammers and fluffs the hair at the nape of his neck with his hand implies anything, Ignis most definitely succeeded at tinting him a pretty shade of pink.

“Last one in’s a rotten cockatrice egg!” Threatens Prompto when he finds his voice again, and then leaps past Ignis into the water, scattering frightened Glowing Barrelfish in his wake.

Ignis chuckles and follows his boyfriend’s lead.

***

Swimming in the sea under the stars with Prompto inspires exuberance and lightheartedness Ignis never experienced in all his former years. The pair splash and grapple and chase one another; Ignis had no one to do such things with during his boyhood, and once he was mature enough to comprehend the mantle of Advisor to the Crown Prince, playful pursuits became a thing of the past. These experiences with Prompto are stolen moments, extravagances Ignis ought to avoid allowing himself for the sake of his duty. Yet, as Ignis catches Prompto’s wrist and whirls him around in the waist-deep water to kiss the grin off his face, Ignis finds he craves this forbidden fruit so fervently he cannot even think.

The adventure in late-night swimming ends at the secluded wooden dock where it began. After drying and re-dressing, Prompto and Ignis lounge upon the fluffy towels and pass the thermos of warm tea between themselves whilst swinging their legs from the dock’s edge. They trace the asterisms and constellations in the navy sky, chatting about whatever flits through their thoughts.

“Should we tell Noctis and Gladio?” Prompto inquires abruptly during a lull in conversation.

“Hmm?” Ignis hums through a mouthful of tea. “Tell them...?”

Prompto clarifies, “About us being...together, as boyfriends.”

Now there’s a dilemma. Ignis takes another swig of tea, passes the thermos back to Prompto, and considers the concept. Truthfully, Ignis never envisioned _coming out_ as something he might one day do. Loyalty to the Lucian crown, and the fact that upper echelons of society tend to disparage any so-called ‘sexual deviancy’, always made revealing his sexuality seem unwise. While working at Insomnia’s Citadel, the last thing Ignis ever wanted was to cause a scandal that could mar his reputation, or worse, mar Noctis’s reputation.

Society upholds illogical assumptions and standards, Ignis concerns himself too much with social standing and appearances; where to place blame for the predicament he finds himself in is anyone’s guess. Ignis knows it’s not fair, knows that being gay, bisexual, or transgender has no bearing on character nor ability. Stigma and prejudice remain the glaring problems; they’re what motivated Ignis to keep closeted in the first place.

Not too long ago, Ignis resigned himself to only ever experiencing brief romances in the clandestine corners of clubs and bars at Insomnia that catered to individuals of a certain persuasion. Then, after that all went to hell due to war, he felt certain he’d never bother forming intimate connections beyond the brotherhood of friendship at all.

Prompto’s presence by his side changes everything though.

“What would you like to do?” Ignis asks him. “There are...considerations I have about this, but your opinion and comfort matter as well.”

A faint frown creases Prompto’s face, and he turns to gaze at the sea, thermos forgotten by his side. “I want to tell them, eventually, but I’m not ready yet. Not when everything feels so... This just all feels _new_ , I guess. It’s not that I want to keep secrets though, not forever at least.”

“Thank the astrals,” Ignis sighs, hanging his head. “I’m not ready either.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one!” Prompto slings his right arm across Ignis’s shoulders, pulling them closer together. “We won’t tell anyone until we’re both ready, I promise.”

Ignis slouches a little and tilts his head to the side, resting it against Prompto’s shoulder and feeling grateful he never wears anything with sleeves so Ignis can feel the raw warmth of his skin seeping into his cheek. In the distance, the horizon gradually grows paler, and the stars slowly wink out of view one by one. Ignis closes his eyes, not wanting to watch evidence of the impending dawn creep across the sky and bring such a blissful night to a close.

A modest pressure seats itself at the crown of Ignis’s head, and he realizes Prompto rested his own head there. Ignis smiles softly, and seeks out Prompto’s hand with his own, curling his fingers into his palm and stroking the delicate skin atop his hand with his thumb. Prompto’s free hand slips down and wanders the planes of Ignis’s back, idly tracing his shoulder blades and vertebra. Even through the fabric of his shirt, Prompto’s touch blazes a hot trail along Ignis’s nerves. The intensity with which he wants Prompto’s hands anywhere and everywhere strikes him a moment before the wandering hand slips beneath his shirt.

Ignis’s lips part in a gasp as he feels the hot brand of Prompto’s palm cupping his hip. And Prompto, the minx, has the gall to giggle.

“Sensitive?” Prompto asks, retracting his hand slightly.

“Something like that,” Ignis replies, vague. “But you need not stop.”

Prompto hums and continues his exploration of Ignis’s back beneath his shirt. The touch treads lightly but confidently, mapping bone and muscle with a care that makes Ignis feel treasured. He almost could drift to sleep like this. Then Prompto goes and ruins it by fluttering his fingers against Ignis’s oblique, purposefully tickling him.

Ignis yelps a startled laugh and jolts upright, while Prompto guffaws obnoxiously.

“Playing with fire, are we?” The quick question serves as the only warning Ignis gives before shoving his hands into Prompto’s armpits, tickling him back mercilessly.

A noise that’s solidly somewhere between chocobo screech and human laughter escapes Prompto. “I give up! I give up!” He squeaks, even as he continues trying to wedge his hands back under Ignis’s shirt to tickle him again.

“Don’t dish out what you wouldn’t eat!” Admonishes Ignis as he tries to fend off Prompto’s seeking hands.

The childish tickle-fight sends the both of them tumbling atop the towels, hollering, laughing, and vying for the upper hand. Eventually, Ignis pins Prompto underneath himself, and captures his thin wrists with one hand above his blond head. The scuffle and forced laughter winded each of them, and for a couple seconds they only pant and stare at the other.

“Got you, I win.” Ignis gloats, sporting a wily smirk. Just to rub it in, he adds, “Tell me you surrender.”

Prompto glares, even as his eyes twinkle with mirth, and twists his wrists against Ignis’s grip to no avail.

“ _Make me_.”

As it turns out, a devilishly defiant look coupled with two short words spark something _carnal_ within Ignis. In his defense, he cannot be completely positive who leaned in first, not that it matters. Nothing matters now, except the desperate, delirious kisses he trades with Prompto while they cling to one another and claw frantically at all the clothing keeping them separate.

“Oh gods, please! I need-“ Prompto babbles, grinding his growing erection up into Ignis’s pelvis.

“I know, just- Let me...” Ignis struggles to say anything coherent in between snogging and failing to understand how zippers and buttons work.

It takes moving to a sitting position to at last rid Prompto of the pesky jeans he wore. Ignis only manages to get his own trousers down to his knees before Prompto straddles him, his bare ass seated on Ignis’s thighs.

Prompto crushes his mouth to Ignis’s with such abandon that their teeth clack together, and then nibbles Ignis’s lips until he allows Prompto to plunge his tongue into his mouth. The artless recklessness of Prompto’s kissing proves so arousing that Ignis can’t even be bothered by the bit of drool that escapes down his chin. He never felt so unabashedly desired in all his life and it’s dizzying, but that could also owe itself to the blood rapidly migrating south.

When their lips part, Prompto kisses a wet path along Ignis’s jaw to his neck, where he gently nips and sucks pinches of skin. Ignis rides out the sensation, resting his forehead against Prompto’s shoulder, trying not to moan through his labored breaths. In this position, Ignis gets a tantalizing view of Prompto’s cock, crimson and curving against his own erection. Seeing the naked evidence of Prompto’s arousal for him brings erotic visions to Ignis’s mind. He wants to open himself up and bounce on Prompto’s pretty cock until he spills his pleasure into his ass, or watch Prompto shoot come all over his perfect, freckled body as Ignis thrusts into his most private of places, or...

“May I use my mouth on you?” Ignis asks, then immediately winces at the neediness rasping his voice.

Upon hearing the question, Prompto rocks his hips and rubs their dicks together, but the slight friction only serves to tease.

“Yeah,” answers Prompto, sounding equally needy as Ignis with his voice low and lovely. “I’d like that.”

As they reposition, Ignis takes the opportunity to kick his pants the rest of the way off and remove his shirt. Once that’s out of the way, Prompto, already reclining on the towels but looking a little foolish still wearing his top with no pants, reaches for him.

“As much as I can hardly contain myself,” Ignis begins, “I’d like to do this properly. Your shirt, please, Prompto.”

“Ooh, _do this properly_ he says.” Prompto imitates, but acquiesces and gets fully undressed.

Ignis balances himself above Prompto’s recumbent form and raises an eyebrow at him. “You must think you’re quite funny.”

“I’m absolutely hilario-“

Ignis interrupts his boyfriend with a fervent kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue into his warm mouth and licking along the ridges of his teeth. Meanwhile, he glides one of his hands over Prompto’s chest, palming his pecs and pressing the pads of his fingers into his nipples until they stiffen into nubs he can pinch.

The little gasps and whimpers Prompto voices into their kiss are divine, as is the way he runs his hands up and down Ignis’s back and arms with the occasional scratch of fingernails. Ignis madly considers the possibility of surviving on this alone, feeding on nothing but Prompto’s pleasure.

Ignis breaks away from Prompto’s sweet kisses and descends lower, but not before telling him, “I’m going to ensure that smart mouth of yours isn’t saying anything but my name soon enough.” The comment elicits a groan from his lover, one that breaks off into a keen when Ignis laves his tongue over a pert nipple.

Through thoroughly lavishing attention on Prompto’s chest and nipples (perhaps leaving a few too many hickies as aftermath) Ignis discovers just how sensitive this erogenous zone of his is. Not much time passes before Prompto starts begging, or at least attempting to.

“Ignis! Please- _Fuck_ it feels so good. But _please_ , just- _touch me_.” Prompto supplements his broken pleas with pointed jerks of his hips.

Lust to explore Prompto’s cock circumvents Ignis’s impulse to continue teasing him, and he swiftly repositions himself lower between Prompto’s legs. Now with the object of his desire before him, Ignis takes a moment to appreciate it. Prompto’s cock is thicker than he guessed—though he’s loath to admit how much past time he spent guessing—and flushed dark red. The hair Prompto has around the base grows a couple shades darker than the bright blond crowning his head and is shorn short. A few drops of pearlescent precome cling to his cockhead, looking as though they might dribble down the length of his shaft given enough time. Ignis flicks his tongue across his lips, the sight tempting him, first things first however.

“I want to bring you as much pleasure as I am able, Prompto. Yet I’ve never done this before,” Ignis admits, meeting Prompto’s glazed blue-violet eyes. “So please, let me know if anything I do pains you, or if you want me to stop.”

Prompto offers a frenetic nod in response. “Yes, I will, but I’m almost a hundred percent sure that even if a sea-monster came to eat us I’d accept it as the way I go before asking you to stop.”

Encouraged, and chuckling a little, Ignis focuses his attention on Prompto’s hard prick. He knows how to do this in theory. Although he never intends to admit it, Ignis was not above watching ‘crappy internet porn’ as well. It’ll have to serve as education enough; the rest comes down to practice. And Ignis sure hopes much, _much_ more practicing exists in their future.

Not wanting to waste further time, Ignis dips down and sucks the head of Prompto’s cock into his mouth, lapping the precome gathered at the tip. The flavor tastes subtly salty, almost like nothing at all. He swirls his tongue around the velvety skin and takes more of Prompto’s erection beyond his lips.

“Aah! _Fuck_ , Iggy!” Prompto’s body tenses and trembles, and he gives a few aborted little thrusts of his hips.

Ignis rests his forearms on Prompto’s quivering thighs to prevent him from driving too deep and making him cough, which likely would embarrass both parties. To make up for any lack of depth, Ignis curls his hand tightly around the heated base of Prompto’s cock and sucks the rest as far as he can handle. From there he strikes a rhythm, moving his hand as he sucks up and down.

The beautiful vision laid before Ignis when he chooses to glance up nearly causes him to choke anyway. Prompto has partly propped himself up with one arm, and stares intently at Ignis with pleasure-drunk eyes. He bites his other arm at the wrist, muffling any sounds he makes and causing his breath to puff in harsh exhalations from his nose. Plum-colored hickies spangle the skin of Prompto’s naked chest and clavicles, each one a testament to this amorous night.

Ignis holds Prompto’s gaze as he drags his lips up the length of his shaft, releasing it with an obscene _pop_. He reaches to grab the arm Prompto sunk his teeth into.

“None of that, love.” Ignis says, coaxing Prompto’s arm away from his face. “I want to hear you.”

Before Prompto has the chance to respond, Ignis slides his cock into his mouth once more and, in a bold move, places Prompto’s liberated hand at the back of his head. Prompto immediately threads his fingers into Ignis’s hair and arches his back with a loud moan.

Ignis resumes bobbing his mouth and hand along Prompto’s length, sucking his cock down as deep as he can take him, adding pressure with his tongue for good measure. All the while, the _noises_ , the absolutely astral-sent sounds Prompto lets fall from his lips drive Ignis mad. Every single gasp, pant, and cry goes straight to Ignis’s neglected prick, heavy and throbbing between his legs.

“Oh- Ignis, Ignis, _Iggy_!” Prompto starts chanting his name, undulating his hips beneath Ignis’s grasp. “I’m almost, ‘m gonna-!” He pulls some of Ignis’s hair in warning.

Rather than heed and pull away, Ignis holds his breath and swallows Prompto’s prick as far back as he dares, the slight sting in his throat springing tears to his eyes. Prompto cries a sound that nearly seems punched out of him, followed by hoarse whispers of Ignis’s name as he finally spills his seed down his throat.

Prompto collapses back on the towels with splayed limbs and a sigh as Ignis sits up to a kneel and wipes residual spend and spit from his lips with the back of his hand.

“Ifrit’s balls that was... _wow_ ,” Prompto extols. “But what about you?”

Ignis has the feeling he will not take long at all; he’s never been this hard in his life. “I can use my hand. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” He explains.

“Do it on me.” Prompto says.

“Sorry?”

Prompto’s expression pinches nervously in spite of what they just did together. “I want you to jerk yourself off and...and come _on me_.”

Oh. _Oh_. Ignis feels his cock twitch and grasps the base of it harshly, worried suddenly he could come from words alone.

When Ignis doesn’t answer immediately Prompto eyes him. “You will, won’t you? Do you want to?” He asks.

“I... _fuck_.” Ignis bites out a rare swear. It’s too much; he wants to fulfill Prompto’s suggestion so ardently he can hardly voice it. “Yes, _yes_ , more than anything.” He eventually responds.

Prompto gives him a sly smile and stretches luxuriously. “Then I’m all yours, babe.”

Moving his hand along his shaft in slow strokes, Ignis resists the urge to come too fast so he can savor the sight of Prompto waiting to be defiled. Even so, it feels like precious little time passes before Ignis pumps into his fist in earnest, tensing and panting.

“Ignis, _sweetheart_ , you’re so hot like this.” Prompto coos, palming his own spent cock a little. “I can’t wait to feel your come.”

A desperate moan escapes Ignis’s mouth and he quickens his strokes, tendrils of ecstasy winding throughout his body. “Prompto, _ah_ -! Prompto, I can’t last, darling. Not when you s-say such things.”

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.” Prompto traces up his own body with his hand, pressing his fingers to some of the darker marks Ignis left on him. “You can let go with me.”

Ignis makes a broken sound that some part of his mind knows he’ll feel embarrassed about later, but at the moment everything unnecessary exits his thoughts as his orgasm overtakes his senses. Wave after ecstatic wave sweeps through him, and Ignis remains just cognizant enough to keep his eyes open and riveted as milky white jets of spend stripe up Prompto’s torso.

Even when his body no longer shivers with aftershocks, Ignis stays kneeling between Prompto’s legs a moment, taking in the salacious sight of Prompto covered in his come. He’ll keep it a secret for now how darkly possessive this image makes him.

“Prompto, that was...” Ignis trails off, and Prompto smiles sweetly at him. “I must confess that I’m reluctant to clean you off; I want to commit just how you look right now to memory.”

“You could get my camera and take a picture.” Suggests Prompto, sweet smile turning a little spicy.

Not a bad idea, but, “Are you sure?” Ignis asks.

“Consider it the perks of the secret SD card.”

After snapping a photograph (or three), Ignis gently wipes the come off of Prompto’s skin, kissing the freckles of each freshly clean section. When that’s done, Ignis desperately wants to just cuddle on the dock. Prompto does too, as evidenced by the way he clings to Ignis and whimpers petulantly when they must part to re-dress. The sun shall breach the edge of the horizon any minute now.

“We have a few hours before everyone wakes up for the day. We can spend them curled up in the hotel bed.” Ignis consoles himself as much as he does Prompto with this statement.

“Ugh, that bridge back to the hotel is gonna feel like a million miles.” Prompto complains, and then yawns. “But cuddling in bed sounds like the best thing ever right now.”

“That it does,” agrees Ignis. “So we best be off.”

The pair of them hold hands all the way back to the hotel, slipping away back to bed before the first rays of dawn catch them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Being closeted and coming out are themes that strike a chord in my heart. My partner and I are bi men who’re out to friends and family, but remain closeted at school/work.
> 
> For anyone struggling with coming out and/or being closeted, I feel for you. You’re not alone.


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